


Monotony

by junkphilia



Category: OFF (Game)
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Very A-typical porn, rough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 03:50:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5442290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junkphilia/pseuds/junkphilia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Batter makes a deal.<br/>Zacharie is happy to comply.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monotony

**Author's Note:**

> I know OFF is dead but let me have this  
> Also my headcannon for Zacharie is that he uses French words inconsistently and is a nasty little FLIRT

Omnipotence was no fun after you’d gotten used to it. After all, what was the fun in knowing what was going to happen before it happened? Trying to remember back to the first time you had entered this unending spiral of events was torturous and never yielded a single worthwhile piece of information, but you still tried nevertheless. Occasionally, something here or there was changed up a bit, but in the end, the result was always going to be the same, whether the Player chose one ending over another.  
And so, having existed through this section of the game’s events so many times, you patiently sat back, arms folded neatly behind your head, waiting for the Batter to run on by. There weren’t many times where he didn’t at least stop by for a chat, and it was, to tell the absolute truth, one of the few things you looked forwards to, disregarding the mostly scripted dialogue.  
It wasn’t long before mentioned, and debatable protagonist of the game appeared, panting as he jogged into the room. You snickered, shifting your weight so you were leaning against the monochromatic platform in front of you, and you readied your wares. He hadn’t looked up at you yet, as he seemed to be a bit preoccupied with catching his breath, his fingers dug into his knees as he hunched over.  
“Ah ah ah ah… What is this, mon chéri? You seem fatigued. Perhaps you’d like to browse my ever available wares to aid you on your perpetual quest?” He did not reply, but you watched with glee as his mouth pressed into a thin, agitated line. You did not antagonize him further, only watched him, amused, until he gathered his wits and straightened. You thought, in a fraction of a disappointed second, that he was going to pass up on your shop and make his way to his next destination, but instead he approached you, eyes flashing angrily.  
“My, my. Allow me to comment that frustration is a good look on you, my eternally faithful customer,” you crooned sardonically. He said nothing, instead raised his arm, and tossed his blood-spattered bat onto the white counter separating the two of you with a few loud clunks. You inspected it for a moment, noting the chips and cracks threatening to fracture the bat into unusable splinters, then looked up to meet the Batter’s glare, and you grinned behind your mask. Oho, you hoped things were going where you thought they were going to go.  
“I need a new bat,” he said dully, but with the barest hint of bitten back rage. You heaved your bag of items onto the white surface, rolling the bat away with a dismissive flick of your fingers, then laced them together in front of you before replying.  
“I would absolutely love to assist you. Tell me, what is it you’re looking for?” He bristles, and you have to bite your tongue so you don’t laugh. Oh, do you wish he’d show this side more often. Really, he was more fun the more incompetent the Player was.  
“The old bat you sold me wasn’t strong enough. I need a better one.” You cluck condescendingly at him, but rifle through your sack nevertheless.  
“Do not fault me for this, petit canard. It was you who made the decision to spend credits on that there bat.” You shrugged your head in the direction of the fallen weapon. All four of his eyes narrowed menacingly, but you were not scared. No, never of him.  
“Fine,” he spat. “I don’t care, just sell me a better one.”  
“My, so spiteful. If you’re not careful, I’ll take my humble shop to a more grateful patron,” you teased. Obviously, the Batter didn’t pick up on the joke, and he snarled. It was just too easy. “Alright, alright, calm yourself. I will show you what I have that’s available.” You watched out of the corner of your eye as his shoulders un-tensed to the most minute degree, but a slight relaxation nevertheless.  
You finished lying out the bats you had on stock and he blinked, looking them over carefully. You felt a slight prickle on the back of your neck, knowing the forever present Player was scoping their options. Finally, after a long silence, the Batter spoke.  
“I don’t have enough for any of these,” he proclaimed with a definite air of embarrassment.  
“Oh no, no, no! Well, this won’t do. I’m afraid you are going to have to take your old bat and move on with the items you currently possess. There is nothing I can possibly do about a lack on funds on your part, after all.” He growled, and the baritone, warning bite it had gave you almost instantaneous gooseflesh.  
“I run a shop, not a charity,” you replied cattily while stuffing the bats back into your bag of things. He watched you with fury, and you made a final, dramatic sigh as if you were sorry for him (you weren’t).  
Sullenly, he made his way over to the old, banged up weapon of destruction, and patted it into his palm a few times, seemingly in deep thought. Intrigued, you watched him carefully.  
He seemed to come to a conclusion, and looked over at you, to which you sat up straighter, indicating he had your fullest attention.  
“Maybe… you’d like to make a deal, then?” His tone was strained, and you took your sweet time reveling in it.  
“You have excited my interest, and because of this I am willing to hear your proposition,” you replied happily. He seemed confused all of the sudden, supposedly opening his mouth to speak, then closed it again, his eyes darting around.  
“I… did not have anything specific in mind,” he confessed. You laughed at that, shaking your head slightly.  
“Ohh, mignon, you never fail to amuse me.” You cough, and clap your hands together. “Well, since you asked so nicely, I might be persuaded. You do realize though, that I am not in need of anything… corporeal that you might offer, though. I have everything I need, programmed right into the game for everlasting sustenance.” As usual, he ignores your monologuing and cuts straight to the point.  
“Just tell me what to do, Zacharie. I must have one of your bats to proceed,” he replied, stony faced. You tapped your chin, humming, feigning deep thought, even though you had known what you wanted from the start.  
“Well…” you began slowly, “I suppose there is something I might inquire of you, if it’s not too much of an imposition on my part.”  
“Name it.” Your lips curled into a sly grin, and you think he might have been able to tell, for his upper left eye twitched in irritation. Chortling, you crossed your arms.  
“If you want this bat so badly… Allow me to suck your cock,” you purred. His eyes blinked rhythmically and his mouth parted slightly. He swallowed, then, mouth sounding rather dry, he responded with an indignant “What?”  
“Oh, come now, don’t be that way. We are two fully grown individuals who need something that the other is perfectly capable of giving, so is there really a point to this shocked act?” Although you were testing him, your words weren’t quite true. It would have been the epitome of boredom if he robotically complied once you had given your request. It was certainly possible that you loved the chase far too much for your own good.  
“Yes, but…” he paused. “I only thought that it would have been the other way around. After all, it is I who owe you the favor.” You digested that, then face splitting in two from your widest of grins, began to break out in raucous laughter. It faded soon, but your glee was not yet evaporated.  
“Oh, mon coeur, you will kill me, and then you may take all the bats you please,” you giggled.  
He seemed peeved, but said nothing. Finally, your fit met its end and you composed yourself, cheeks still wet from tears that had escaped their confines. You coughed into your hand, then continued, biting your tongue slightly when you felt your composure might slip again.  
“So unintentionally gracious. You are a charming man. Mais, non, sadly this is my request. You may take it or leave it, but keep in mind that the option will always be left open for the future, alright?” You almost fall into another fit of giggles.  
“N-no, I… now is fine,” he stutters. Now this is something you don’t often have the pleasure of witnessing; a flustered Batter. And is it ever a treat! You think that must be a bit of a blush on his otherwise colorless features.  
“Now, now. Don’t be nervous, come over here where I have better access.” You rise off the plain chair you’d been occupying, and gesture in the most gentlemanly manner for him to take your place.  
Awkwardly, he sets down his bat on the counter, and makes his way around to the seat where he begrudgingly sits. His face is everywhere but yours, making you snicker. “Just relax, précieux. I will conduct my business, and you, as always, will be on your way.” You try to make your voice soothing, but he seems agitated. Poor thing, he’s so driven by the need to be successful that taking even the smallest break is too much for him. Well, you’ll be taking his mind off the inevitable soon enough.  
Chuckling, you carefully untuck his striped tunic from his shorts, and push the fabric up, looking up at him in silent communication until he gets the idea and with a small amount of hesitation, he holds it up so that you’re able to unbutton his pants easily. Tilting your mask up by only the most necessary amount invokes a querying look from the Batter that you do not answer. There are some mysteries he will have to be content with never solving.  
You bite your lip, rolling the flesh between your teeth in excitement as you note the dark, trailing hair that disappears behind bleak fabric. His briefs are exposed as you finally get the zipper undone, and pleased for no reason, you hook your fingers around the far ends of his waistband, bracing your thumbs against each side of his pelvis bone. He shudders as you draw closer, after all, your hot breath on his clothed cock must be an unexplainably strange sensation in comparison to the pain and stress his life is comprised of. You couldn’t ever imagine yourself in his situation.  
Your lips press to a random area on his front, and you are rewarded with a small intake of breath. You brush the tip of your nose and mouth against him, testing which parts of his anatomy are where and how big, since the eyeholes of your mask are askew and you might as well be blind. You’re pleasantly surprised with the rate of his growing arousal, but then again you’re not, since situations similar to this have occurred in past games, although they were not frequent endeavors. By the time you’re done searching, he stands at his full, impressive height and he’s making these subtle, growling noises that you can only liken to a very menacing cat purring. It only spurs you on and eventually drives you to impatience, which is when you finally place your lips over his cock, the fabric quickly becoming soaked from your ministrations and sticking to his flesh.  
You moved down further, doing no more than covering his briefs in your saliva, but either way he clearly seemed into it. Into it or not, you felt the growing tension in the air, and at its pinnacle he shoved rough hands into your shoulders, ripping you off him, his expression psychotic and scarily sharp teeth bared.  
“Quit fucking with me and get to it, already,” he snarled.  
“Oui, monsieur, I shall not keep you from your pleasure, my sincerest apologies,” you replied sarcastically. He seemed sated for the moment but with such a well hidden, yet alarmingly impetuous temper, you were not altogether sure how long that would last.  
You busied yourself with peeling the fabric from his hips until it was sufficiently low enough for you to conduct business. You hadn’t a clue that you’d been staring, enamored with his comically large prick until you were startled from your reverie by the Batter clearing his throat. You gave a chuckled lowly.  
“Oh, where have my manners gone today? After all, it isn’t very polite to stare, even if you’re presented with something so undeniably… tasty,” you gushed as you gripped the base of his thick cock in one hand. You wasted no time in dipping your head onto it, being careful to keep your teeth tucked away, although you’re not entirely sure that the Batter would have been opposed to a bit of discomfort. He made a strange chuffing sound and grabbed your hair roughly, drawing an unscheduled squeak from your stretched lips. Apparently, he had finally had enough of your incessant teasing and decided to remedy his situation by doing your job for you. Well, now there was something you weren’t opposed to.  
Although you had been in this situation before, this was the first time he had ever snapped and gotten frustrated with you. Perhaps it was because it was the first time he had been placed with the burden of being partnered with such an incapable Player. Well, it all worked out in your favor in the end, so who were you to complain?  
The Batter really was doing his best to make a wreck out of you, though. After growling that he was tired of your unending talking, he began violently forcing your head back and forth over his girth with wild abandon, clearly only worrying about getting himself off and not reciprocating in any form whatsoever. Not that you weren’t making it patently known that you were enjoying every second of this. You had your fun mewling and making extremely over the top, pitiful crooning noises that fooled no one in their legitimacy.  
Real or not, they achieved their intended use by further arousing the Batter, who would surely leave bruises inside and out from the brutal way he was handling you.  
You reached a hand inside your black jeans, hand shaking slightly as your decrepit body lolled weakly with his thrusts, and you gripped yourself, thumbing the tip feebly before stroking in tight, fast little pumps of your fist. It did not take long before the Batter neared his inevitable end, pulling your face flush against his hips and forcing you to choke down his saccharine come, and you followed not a minute later.  
You recovered quicker than he did, and sat back, still catching your breath as you pulled your mask back down to obscure your features.  
“I must say, bichette, that was unquestionably worth my time and a brand new bat. Hopefully it will aid you and your player on your quest of purification,” you hummed.  
“Oh, will you stop with the pontification already,” he replied in a tired, yet undoubtedly satisfied manner. You giggled. “Just this once. But never mind that, why don’t you pay me one last favor and entice me with your thoughts of my abilities?” The wheels in his brain seemed to stall and restart for a few moments, but you granted him at least time to think, curious for his incoming riposte.  
“I think… I may have to make deals with you more often,” he finally replied.  
You laughed. You were going to miss this Batter.

**Author's Note:**

> French Translations:  
> mon chéri- my dear  
> petit canard- little duck  
> mignon- cutie  
> coeur- heart  
> mais non- but no  
> précieux- precious  
> oui monsieur- yes mister  
> bichette- darling  
> *I don’t speak French, these were found on a website so I have no idea if they’re right or not.


End file.
